


Bandcram

by TheUltamate



Series: The Trolls of Oregon [3]
Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltamate/pseuds/TheUltamate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat starts a band? Only shenanigans can possibly ensue.</p><p>Set in the same continuity as Grocery Day/What Happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which a Flyer Is Read

**Author's Note:**

> Forward warning: I don't actually know how Homeowner's Committees work.

Karkat, awake far too early in the day for his own good (IE, nine in the morning), slumped on the couch, staring at the TV, which was set to a recording of one of Nepeta's favorite shows, _Lions Doing Things Lions don't Normally Do_. Currently, a lion was dressed in a business suit, interviewing a man for a cashier position at Qonvenience Quick. Karkat, in the back of his mind, vaguely remembers seeing this episode, because he seemed to recall the previous bit about the dump truck and lederhosen, (he's pretty sure the lion eats the guy).

The door swung open and Nepeta of all people came through the door, balancing a large package in one hand and the rest of the mail in the other. "Alright! About time it came!" She noticed Karkat and dumped the rest of the mail unceremoniously over his head. "Oh, here. Take the rest." She returned her attention to the package. "This is going to be so awesome!"

"Wuh-" Karkat roused himself from his half sleep and shook off the army of advertisements and credit card offers. He was preparing a battery of his finest curses when a splash of bright yellow caught his eye. It was a flyer, which, upon inspection, was adorned with large musical notes, guitars, and Comic Sans:

This Sunday Sunday **SUNDAY**  
witness the feature that is the

**BATTLE OF THE BNADS  
SUNDAY** AT THE WALMART PARKING LOT  
 **SUNDAY**

for the love of god, no original music

Prizes offered for winners!  
 **SUNDAY**

 

Karkat stared at this. It occurred to him that after the last clusterfuck that will be forever remembered as the May 11th Incident, they could really use some extra cash for the repair fund. This Battle of the Bnads, as it was so gloriously typo'd, offered prizes. Prizes = money. Money = repairing the second floor banister = favorable Homeowner's Committee review = more money = satisfied Karkat, and everyone knows satisfied Karkat = less yelling = lower blood pressure. Thus, prizes = lower blood pressure.

It was therefore reasonable to arrive at the conclusion that the Battle of the Bnads was more than worth Karkat's time.

This is where Karkat's Master Plan to Make a Few Dollars™ ran into a wall largely constructed of incompetence. He guessed he could sing, and if he remembered correctly Sollux had a pretty sick custom bass, but the extent of his talent was unknown. As far as he knew, nobody in the hive had any actual musical talent. In summary, karkat was hosed unless he could scrounge together a few instruments in five days.

Well, it was worth a shot. Karkat pulled himself from the couch and started toward Sollux's room.

\------

"Sollux? Sollux!" Karkat hammered on the Gemini troll's door. "Dammit, Sollux, I need to talk to you!"

Sollux opened the door, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Wow, going thtraight to "dammit'? It'th only nine, you know."

"Cram it, and while your chute is shut, take advantage of the quiet to read this." Karkat thrust the flyer in Sollux's face.

"Uh-huh." Sollux skimmed the few words it had to offer. "They typo'd 'band'," he observed.

"No shit."

"Tho...what doeth thith have to do with me?

"Oh my god. Can't your two brains handle the concept of prize money?"

"I don't follow."

"It's simple." Karkat pulled on a white labcoat and pulled a laser pointer from its pocket, walking up to a chalkboard. Elevator muzak hummed softly in the background. "Observe Figure 1, our bank account we use for home repairs. I have labelled it HOME REPAIR. Now, ever since the May 11th Incident, HOME REPAIR has been running on empty." Karkat grabbed a piece of chalk and crossed out a few dollar signs surrounding a sloppy doodle of a bank. "In exactly six days, the Homeowner's Committee will drop in for their inspection and notice the broken banister in front of Gamzee's block." Karkat hurriedly scribbled in a collection of stickmen, labelled ASSGRABBING INGRATES. One of the ASSGRABBING INGRATES was holding out a dollar sign to another sloppy character, identified as ME. "If they see this mess, they deny us more money." The dollar sign offered by the lead INGRATE was smudged out. ME was given a cartoonish frown. "However, if we participate in this so-called Battle of the Bnads, labelled here as TAINTCHAFE EARFUCK, we can get the money to fix the banister to get more money." The muzak stopped. "Any questions?"

Sollux blinked. "And where do I fit into thith?"

A vein stood out on Karkat's forehead. "Don't you have a bass?"

"Well I haven't touched it in forever."

"Oh, it's not like you'll forget." Karkat lost the labcoat wile no one was looking and pushed Sollux into his block. "Now get it, sit down, and play."

Sollux shrugged. He removed from his closet a double-necked custom with six strings on each neck and the Gemini symbol on the body. He sat down on the edge of his bed and began playing the most hella rocking bass solo Karkat had ever heard.

The scene slowly morphed into a Martian mountaintop, Sollux proudly shredding something uncannybrutal on top; Karkat was at the bottom, staring up in wonder as rays of light danced in the sky. Upon conclusion, which came at the end of a lengthy tapping section and a few low chords, Olympus Mons erupted for the first time in millennia, blanketing the plains of Cydonia in rich, lifegiving carbon. The sound waves radiated throughout the cosmos, ripping through the void as pure energy, delivering a wave of good hope. On Eris, in a lonely mountaintop village, forever blasted by the worst of an eternal snowstorm, the only child will shed a single tear, and know all will be good.

_All will be well._

Sollux shrugged. "I gueth I thtill know what I'm doing."

Karkat attempted to get his jaw muscles to work collaboratively. "How can you just- it was- that was- beautiful!"

Sollux returned the guitar to its stand. "It wath okay."

" _Okay‽_ It was more than just _okay!_ "

"Could've been better."

Karkat sighed. "Look, I don't have time for your self-depreciation. Are you in on this or not?"

"Do I have a choithe?"

"At this point, you probably don't. We need to-" Karkat hastially applied a pair of sunglasses, "- _band together_."

"You're terrible."

"Shut up."


	2. In Which Auditions are Held

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops how long has it been? Two and a half months? Eh, I guess I'll just roll with it.

**When we last left our heroes, Karkat and Sollux had decided to _band together!_**

In the very back of the troll's house, on the ground floor, was a good-sized sunroom with large windows, faux wood paneling, and a complete lack of use. Even with twelve trolls making the house a nightmare in suburbia, most of the rooms actually went unused. This was due to a multitude of reasons, each specific to the room in question: nobody used the attic because Aradia was always up there, Karkat screamed at anyone who tried to enter the home theater without his permission, nobody bothered to eat in the dining room since there was a good enough table in the kitchen, and there was a spare bedroom that Kanaya maintained for guests but, since even getting close to the house was considered risky, it was never occupied. The specific reason for the lack of use in the sunroom was similar: general apathy.

Kanaya had, some time ago, decided a beach theme would suit the room quite well, even though they had an actual indoor swimming pool in the next room over (though, to Kanaya's credit, the pool had been filled with lime flavored Gel-Ooze brand gelatin and nobody could be bothered to do anything about it) and they lived a two hour drive from a real beach. Thus, the trolls often ignored the sunroom with all of its tasteful parrot sculptures and starfish hanging on the walls and tiki faces and other confused combinations of different seaside cultures.

Today was one of the rare days someone walked in without aiming to use the one extremely large tiki statue for target practice or to pee in the pot of the one flower half the trolls were mildly allergic to. Today, Karkat and Sollux were holding band auditions.

Karkat frowned at the motley crew gathered before him: Equius, Eridan, Kanaya, Tavros, Gamzee, Vriska, and Feferi. He scowled at the list in front of him, just to make sure this was right. It was. Karkat leaned back, sighed, and looked at Sollux, who was extremely interested in a deep cut in the table they were at. Karkat cleared his throat, sat up, and announced: "Attention, please!"

The small group either did not notice him or was willingly ignoring him.

Karkat made a noise and tipped a flowerpot over. "By Grabthar's Hammer, fucking attention, please!"

Kanaya gripped the sides of her head. "My mums!"

"Look, if this goes well, you can get all the weeds you want." Karkat addressed the full group. "You all know why you're here-"

"Fuck, I don't."

" _-and I'd like to start by finding a drummer._ " Karkat growled, ignoring Gamzee. "Who here can hit things?"

Equius raised his hand.

"Without breaking them."

"Aww, fiddlesticks."

Gamzee spoke up: "Motherfuck, sometimes, after drinking, like, _ten motherfucking bottles_ of Faygo, and I see all the motherfucking stars in the motherfucking sky, ju-"

"Get on with it, Gamzee."

"Well, I can play the motherfucking motherfuck out of some trash cans, and in my dream, I am the motherfucking star, it's me, until the combination of sugar overdose and exhaustion cause me to black out." He smiled in content. "I think I need to slam another fucking Faygo."

"Okay, so Gamzee's drumming. Fantastic. Wh-"

Eridan barged forward. "I hwanna sing! I totally can! Here, lemme:" He posed with an imaginary microphone. "Momma, ooh, I don'hwanna die, sometime' hwish I newer hwas, uh hwhatewer, uh-"

Sollux recoiled. "Jethuth fuck, Eridan. _Thtop!_ "

"Aww..."

"Just for that, you're on rhythm guitar." Karkat wasn't sure why he was punishing Eridan by allowing him in the group, but then again, it _was_ rhythm guitar. "Besides, I have the best voice. I'm singing."

"Fuck." Eridan sat dejectedly in a folding beach chair, which promptly collapsed.

Kanaya and Feferi stepped forward. Kanaya carried two spoons and Feferi was grinning wildly. "We've got an idea you might be interested in hearing."

"Yeah! It's super great!"

"Be still, my beating heart." Kanaya glared at Karkat. "Fine, you've got one chance. Don't screw up."

"Ready, Feferi?"

"Ready!" Feferi beamed.

Kanaya began to play the spoons. Feferi let out a long " _Ohhhhhhhhh!_ "

"Dear god, no," Sollux slammed his face into the table. "Not the thpoonth!"

"Fucking dammit, why did I let them do this?"

Vriska calmly clubbed Feferi on the back of the head with a potted petunia plant. The Pisces fell to the ground in a heap.

Kanaya stopped and boggled down at Feferi. "Oh no! Come on, let's get that cleaned up." She propped up the semiconscious troll and walked her out of the room.

"Mother Grub, this is exhausting." Karkat looked at his paper. "Now, as I was saying, who else can play guitar?"

Vriska huffed. "Why do you think _I'm_ here?"

"To terrorithe Tavroth," Sollux suggested.

Vriska glared. "Shut up. Now, if I may play..." Vriska began digging through a pile of Magic 8 Balls to figure out which one had her guitar in it. "It's around here somewhere...ah! Here we go!" She cracked the 8 Ball open on the table and out came a perfectly horrid custom guitar shaped like an AK-47.

Karkat resisted the urge to throttle himself. "Great. You're one of _those_ people."

Vriska defensively put an arm over the guitar. "What, there's nothing wrong with it!"

"Look at it! That's probably the least tasteful thing I've ever seen in my life!"

"You expected anything else out of her?" Sollux muttered.

"You're not helping!" Karkat paused so he wouldn't imagine burning the house down. "Don't you have anything else? Something...not that?"

"Well, this one guy gave me this dingy old Les Paul as a payment for the d-"

"Great, great! Fanfuckingtastic!" Karkat interrupted her in a hurry to get this confrontation over with and a desire to not know what someone would have been paying Vriska to do. "What I am asking you to do, nicely, from the bottom of my cold, craggy fucking vascular system, is to get you shitsucking Les Paul!"

"Fine, fine, Jesus." Vriska stowed the gun guitar into her sylladex and strolled out the room.

"Now. Finally. That just leaves you, Tavros."

The author suddenly realized Equius was still in this scene. "Hey," he said, popping back into existence on top of an extremely bored Eridan, "what can I do?"

"Fuck if I know. You can be our roadie."

"Roadie? Is it a noble position befitting a blueblood?"

"You carry shit for us."

Equius stared at his feet for a moment and shrugged. "I guess it's better than nothing." He wandered off.

Karkat returned to Tavros. "Now, you. You're all that's left, and there's only one instrument, so you get this." Karkat reached into his sylladex, produced a bulky keyboard from an unknown time period, and tossed it on Tavros' lap. "It's Terezi's. Good luck dealing with her when she finds out!"

"Uh," was Tavros' only response.

Vriska stumbled in, gripping an old sunburst Les Paul that looked as if it had been through Hell and back. Considering it had been in Vriska's room, it was probably close to being true. "Hey, so now can I-"

"You're hired."

Vriska shrugged.

Karkat surveyed the sorry group of sadsacks in front of him. Vriska, who was contemplating whether or not she should just leave; Eridan, who was still trying to disentangle himself from the folding chair; Gamzee, who had passed out while trying to give a large wooden parrot statue Faygo; Tavros, who was looking bewildered as he attempted to figure out how Terezi's keyboard worked.

It would be a rough few weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back when I first wrote this, I literally forgot Equius was in the chapter until the part where I realized he still was. Instead of changing a page and a half of study hall scrawlings, I decided to break the fourth wall.  
> It meant less work.


	3. In Which Percussive Instruments Are Stolen And Faygo Is Consumed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I return, just long enough to ensure everyone has forgotten about me completely.

"Now, Gamzee," Karkat repeated, "tell me why we're going to Big Harold's House of Drums Emporium."

"Motherfuck, that's, like, the fourth motherfucking time you've asked me that," Gamzee said from the bus seat from behind the driver's. "We need to go and get the motherfuck out of some motherfucking drums."

"And?"

"...get some motherfucking Faygo?"

Karkat slammed his face into the wheel. The horn, which, somewhat fittingly, had been replaced with a sound file of Gamzee screaming _HoNk_ , startled the subcompact in front of them.

"No, Gamzee. No Faygo. The correct answer is 'nothing.' Absofuckinglutely nothing else. We buy drums and we get the fuck out. Get it?"

"You motherfucking got it."

"Now, what is it we're going for?"

"Uh, fuck, hold on, I've got this..."

"Uuurgh."

\------

Big Harold's House of Drums Emporium wasn't as large as its name implied. 'Big' or 'emporium' did not readily apply to Big Harold's House of Drums Emporium, though 'house' was certainly applicable, as Big Harold's House of Drums Emporium was, in fact, Big Harold's house.

The only thing tipping off any would-be customer was the small repurposed presidential election lawn sign reading _BIG HAROLD'S House of Drums Emporium_ ; with _BIG HAROLD'S_ painted so large the rest had to be squeezed in below in text that, to the average passerby, was too small to read. Big Harold himself was indeed large, but not necessarily tall. Big Harold was just very big.

He welcomed the two trolls into his Generic American House™ and wobbled into the basement. "So, huh, here's my stock." He blindly slapped around a wall until he found a light switch and flipped it with one sausagelike finger.

Rows of fluorescent lights ticked on, one at a time, down an impossibly long and tall hallway, which was stacked to the ceiling with boxes. The hall stretched far beyond Karkat's and Gamzee's fields of vision.

"Mother..."

"Don't."

"...fucking..."

"I swear..."

"... _miracles._ "

"Fuuuuck."

\------

Big Harold handed Gamzee a catalogue and began a lazy waddle down the hallway. "Huh, so what sort of, uh, kit you lookin' for?"

"Just something basic. As long as it works and isn't some jazz set or First Act bullshit, we'll be-" Karkat just noticed Gamzee was missing. "Gamzee?"

Big Harold and Karkat stopped and looked back. Gamzee was standing some distance back, boggling at the catalogue.

"Gamzee, get the fuck over here."

"Motherfuck...mother...fuck..."

"What's, uh, he doing?"

"Gamzee! Christ almighty, what are you looking at now?" Karkat stomped over to the other troll.

"I'm looking at this motherfucking miracle."

Karkat glared at the page Gamzee was vacantly boggling at. Emblazoned on it was a drum kit so massive its name had to be placed in a bright blue shock bubble: **THE PEART-WHITE 9001Ẍ, the LARGEST KIT in HISTORY**.

"That, I motherfucking want that. I will motherfucking swear off motherfucking Faygo for thirty motherfucking minutes if it means I get that motherfucking thing."

"Gamzee, allow your think pan to form constructive thoughts for five seconds. There are multiple things to consider: one, all we need is a rental. Two, how would we transport it, even with the bus? Three, why the hell would I allow you to buy this in the first place?"

"Because we're the best motherfucking friends ever?"

"Holy fuck." Karkat rubbed his temple. "Look, here's the credit card-" Gamzee reached out eagerly, "-but you have to promise to _not buy_ that thing. Got it?"

"Motherfucking clear as the sky at night."

"Great." Karkat threw the plastic at Gamzee and stomped upstairs. "I'm going back to the bus."

\------

Karkat was engrossed in the newest issue of _The National Infringer_ (" **Oprah Sex Scandal!** " " **Was Bush Sr Murdered?** " " **Bigfoot Seen Ordering Ice Cream At St Louis Dairy Queen!** ") when, from behind Big Harold's House of Drums Emporium, came Big Harold himself, pushing a flatbed cart stacked with boxes. Gamzee was behind him, pushing a similar cart.

"What the- he-" It dawned on Karkat that, predictably, Gamzee bought what he had wanted to but. This, of course, did not please Karkat in the least.

"Gamzee! What the _hell_ do you think you're doing‽"

"Motherfuck, man, I'm buying the drum kit I wanted, just like you motherfucking said!"

"I said _not_ to buy it!"

"Oh." Gamzee continued to push his cart. "Can you motherfucking open the motherfucking back?"

Karkat made a noise best transcribed as _gnnrrrrg_ and had to resist the urge to say 'shit, whare's the manager?' Instead, he stomped up to Big Harold.

"Please fucking tell me he didn't do what I think he did."

"He did," Big Harold wheezed. "You are now the proud owner of six bass drums, fifty-seven toms, eleven snares, sixty cymbals (including five hi-hats), and..." he frowned, "...three full electric kits, I think."

Karkat turned around. "Gamzee! Where do you fucking expect to put all this shit?"

"In my motherfucking block, man! Where the motherfucking else would it go?"

Big Harold looked at a clipboard. "That'll be, huh, $9001."

" _Ffffffffuuuck!_ " Karkat screamed. The next day, the neighbors would file a complaint and Big Harold would be fined. " _Why_ would you let _him_ buy _anything_ that expensive‽"

"He was, the, huh, one with the credit card. But since, uh, it's not in his name or, huh, anything, you, huh, need to sign this." He held out the clipboard.

Karkat slapped it out of Big Harold's hand. "Like _hell_ I'll sign for that. Come on, Gamzee, we're leaving. Get in the fucking bus."

"Motherfuck, man, way ahead of you." Gamzee was seated, taking a swig of Faygo.

Karkat climbed in, started the bus, and blindly barreled out into the street. It wasn't until Big Harold's House of Drums Emporium was well out of sight did Karkat glance into his rearview mirror and notice a few dozen plain white boxes stacked neatly in the seats.

"Fuck! Gamzee, what did you do‽"

"Motherfuck, man, I loaded all those motherfucking drums you bough."

"I didn't sign for them! You just- you _idiot!_ "

\------

Big Harold watched the schools bus speed off into the distance, then turned to begin the laborious task of bending over and picking up his clipboard. Having accomplished that in only a few minutes, Big Harold looked up and noticed two empty flatbeds.

"Huh, huh...not again."

\------

Karkat swerved in and out of traffic as he pulled out a battered cell phone and jammed 9, one of his preset speed dials. The phone promptly burbled "Calling, Equius, mobile." It rang a few times before Equius picked up.

"Karkat, I hate this phone. Remind me again why I can't use my personal communication device."

"I've fucking told you more times than you have brain cells, which, admittedly, wouldn't be a whole lot of times, but your homemade abomination wouldn't fit the data plan. Now, look, just meet me in the garage in ten minutes. There's a lot of shit to carry, and I don't feel like doing it."

A pause. "And what gives you the right to-"

"Because you're the fucking roadie, not me."

Another pause. "Do you mind if I get a towel first?"

"Oh for fuck's sake." Karkat snapped the phone shut and jammed it in his pocket.

"...is that a yes or a no?"

"What. The hell. Kind. Of phone. Doesn't turn off. When you close it‽" Karkat punched the phone with each break. It finally chirped a single note and shut down.

\------

Karkat pulled into the garage, remembering to open the door first this time. Equius stood inside, looking unhappy to be there.

"Just set the shit up in here. We've got plenty of room," Karkat ordered.

Room certainly wasn't scarce in the garage, which was meant for four cars, but housed only the bus and Vriska's motorcycle, which often sat dejected in a corner.

"And what will you be doing?"

"Important band work, wouldn't you like to know?" Karkat threw the keys at Equius. "Don't forget to lock up when you're done."

Karkat stamped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit I've been gone so long AO3 changed its layout and now I'm confused.


	4. In Which the Trolls Arrive Once More at Walmart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, someone remarked "Though I'm tempted to ask how many more months until the next chapter, which saddens me so." Fret not, eager fan. Your time is now.

"About fucking time," Karkat grumbled. Eridan, the last remaining member of Bandcram, entered the garage.

"Shut up, I had to find my guitar."

Vriska sneered at the Fender knockoff. "Where'd you get it, a jumpstart kit?"

"And hwhat if I say yes?"

"Oh, Jesus."

"Both of you, stick it where the sun don't blister." Karkat surveyed the sorry sadsacks. Equius and Gamzee were putting the final cymbals in place. Tavros was hiding from Vriska behind Sollux, who was tuning one of the bass necks. Vriska was still leering at Eridan, who was trying to look like he knew how to tune a guitar. Nepeta sat atop the discarded drum boxes, anticipating practice.

Karkat pointed at her. "What's she doing here."

Sollux looked up and shrugged. "I don't know. Thhe jutht thort of followed me here." He frowned at the lower neck. "My drop G soundth bad."

Karkat ignored that. "So, now that we- Vriska, pay attention- now that we have an actual band, we should figure out what we're playing."

"Oh! Oh! Let's do this!" Eridan reached into his robe and pulled out a CD. "Hwe should do _Heart Shaped Hole_ by the Intercourse Handguns! Or maybe _Ower Hwith_." He looked at the back of the CD. "Hwhat abou' _Hwhatewer You Hwant_?"

Karkat glared. "Take your emo sellout album, break it in half, and cut your wrists with the shards."

"Aw, harsh."

"Sollux? Please have decent taste."

Sollux shrugged. " _War of Ageth_ by the Heat of Futhion?"

"Suggestion noted. Tavros?"

"Uh,"

"Vriska?"

"Let's see..."

"No? Okay, Gamzee?"

"Mir-"

"No, forget you. We've settled on War of Ages." Karkat paused. "Who here knows anything about it?"

Everyone was largely silent. Sollux began practicing the bass riff.

"May I suggest a song everyone here knows?" Equius spoke up.

Nepeta poked her head out from one of the boxes. "You guys should do a Bloodpuke song!" Silence. "GodFucK? Tötfleisch?" Again, silence. "Kräkas?"

"Hwhat do you fuckin' _listen to?_ "

"As I was saying," Equius continued, "I suggest you play a song that is currently popular. That way, there is a higher chance most will be familiar with the song." He crossed his arms, expecting victory.

"Popular music is bullshit," came Karkat's response. "Who here knows I in the Eye and You in the Sun?"

Vriska scoffed. "Karkat, please! Listening to indie music doesn't make you cool. I in the Eye and You in the Sun is _laaaaaaaame!_ And musclebeast over there has a point! New music is much more likely to get us first place! And which new band is awesome? Avenged Disturbing Slipknot of God!" She flipped her hair back. "You can't argue with that."

"Again, popular music is bullshit."

"Is it, uh, too late to, er, suggest Billy Bob Billy?"

Eridan turned. "Is progressiwe country ewen an actual thing?"

"Well, at least, uh, he didn't, um, sell out like the, uh, Intercourse Handguns."

Equius once again attempted to provide a solution. "May I suggest A.N.I.M.Ä.L.?"

Karkat briefly turned from insulting Vriska's taste in music to insult Equius's. "Who in the last twenty years has actually listened to hair metal?"

"I-"

"Besides you."

"Guys, guys!" Gamzee reached into his sylladex and pulled out a few sopor pies. "We need to chill the motherfuck out, otherwise, we'll tear this motherfucking band apart!"

Sollux nodded. "He'th right."

"...and play some motherfucking Clowns of a Grim Persuasion Which May Not be in Full Possession of their Mental Faculties."

Sollux frowned. "God, no."

The band continued bickering until a sound rose above the din. Surely this was the most gorgeous sound a CD player could produce. Karkat, Vriska, Sollux, Eridan, Tavros, Gamzee, and Equius could only sit in wonder. It was as if beauty itself had descended from a golden cloud, a choir of angels singing praises to its radiance.

At the song's conclusion. Nepeta lowered the stereo and, quite calmly, stated: "That was the newest single by Master Bätz, _Nemesis Rising_."

Karkat's mouth dumbly opened and closed. All eight of Vriska's pupils were dilated as she numbly stared. Tavros was leaning back in his chair, uttering a low droning "uuuuhh." Sollux was twitching slightly. Eridan was attempting to hold back tears. Equius was shaking and sweating quite badly. Finally, Gamzee had fallen off of his stool with a soft _HoNk_. Karkat finally got a hold of his jaw functions and managed to say, "All in favor of _Nemesis Rising_ , mumble in coherently."

Eridan began to gently weep.

"Well, I guess that's settled then." Karkat shook his head and regrasped his leadership abilities. "Everyone go online and find tabs. Listen to it the entire time. We meet back here in, oh, exactly one hour."

The only person who moved was Eridan, who was rocking back and forth slightly.

" _Now!_ "

\------

((59^2)*x^6)/((7*10^(15/874))/(5πcos(5))) = x^(12)+(35630910.46*2)/(2sin(90)-2176782336  
x = number of days that have passed

"God fucking dammit, Vriska, it's just going down the scale, how fucking _high_ do you even have to _be_ jus-"

"Shut your chute, I'm working on it. How would you like to play the solo instead?"

"Thanks a grubload, but I'm already bulge deep in the futile act of organizing you morons."

"Aaaaaaaand this is the part where you complain about the change in vocal register in the second movement."

"Fuck you, Serket."

That was how roughly half of the Bandcram practices went. They would practice some, Karkat would yell at somebody, that person would yell at Karkat, Karkat would yell back, and then Nepeta (who had taken the roles of 'test audience' and 'manager' while no one was looking) would yell at both of them to get back to work. Lather, rinse, repeat. Things had actually gone rather well, all things considered: Gamzee, as it turned out, wasn't completely inept at keeping time; Tavros somehow learned the shredding keyboard solo; Eridan had stopped complaining about playing 'the same note ower and fuckin' ower again.' Verbal contesting between Karkat and Vriska was a given, seeing as they were both loud and assertive, but they managed to not punch each other just long enough to hold a practice down.

"Theriouthly, Karkat, we thhould really run through the latht movement. Eridan'th timing is way off."

"You just hwanna play the fukin' solo again," came Eridan's halfhearted reply. He had discovered that all blame tended to fall on the rhythm guitarist.

Karkat checked the time on his phone. It was stuck set to 24 hour time and he didn't know how to change it. He stared dumbly at it while he counted up. "No time," he put his phone away. "It's time to start loading up. Nepeta, go get Equius. Everyone else, pack up your shit and start loading it on the tour bus-"

Vriska laughed.

"-so we can get this over with." Karkat reapplied his aviator shades. "It's go time."

"Um, Karkat, was there supposed to, uh, be a joke in there?"

"That's the fucking joke."

\------

It was truly a special occasion. You could tell it was a special occasion because Karkat was flustered to the point where he had put on what the others called his 'driving face,' which consisted of Karkat sucking in his lower lip and glaring with enough power to melt street signs if he had laser eyes, or at least laser frowns.

Karkat's driving face meant business.

He was doing this, he began to realize, not only because they really needed this/ What would happen if they lost? Probably nothing, because the Homeowner's Committee would probably just skip their house again, but now they were bulge deep in this shit and the thought of losing after all that was just too much to bear. And, dare the think it, he was actually sort of having fu-

A midsized sedan cut off Karkat's bus. He broke his driving face just long enough to scream obscenities at the sedan, and when he returned to being angry at the road, he veered violently right onto their offramp.

It was too late to go back now.

\------

Having found a space in the Walmart parking lot, Karkat claimed it before a soccer mom did and immediately began dishing out orders.

"Alright, everyone is expected to help with Gamzee's shit because he's an idiot. You too, Nepeta. When we're setting up onstage, Sollux knows the amp settings and Equius knows the wiring. For now, Sollux is in charge. You have any complaints, redirect them to him, even if I'm in charge again. I'm going to go get us a timeslot. Any objections? Too fucking bad." He left the bus before anyone could reply.

A large flag with **EVENT REGISTRATION** printed on it originated from a desk manned by two WALMART officials, which Karkat stomped up to and slapped his hands down on. "You two, give me a timeslot."

An official impassively shuffled through paperwork. "Here, fill this out." He passed a clipboard.

Karkat took the clipboard. "Oh, good, another one of these goddamn things." He glared at the sheet before him. "Again, I ask what the hell a 'father' is."

The official blinked. "Wow. That has to be the saddest thing I've ever heard."

Karkat scribbled in a transliterated troll insult and shot back, "You cannot imagine the immensity of the fuck I do not give. Here." He threw the clipboard on the table. "Done."

The official glanced it over. "Okay, 'Bandcram' gets the last slot. You play in..." He consulted a chart. "Two hours."

"Good enough. See you grubfuckers never." He stalked off.

The official blinked at his partner, who had been going through sheets of registration forms. "I think he insulted me."

"Shut up and work, Edgar."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making up fake band names is something that comes naturally, and I was delighted to have an opportunity to finally use some of them. The Heat of Fusion (80's prog rock), I in the Eye and You in the Sun (indie folk), Avenged Disturbing Slipknot of God (nu-metal), and A.N.I.M.Ä.L. (hair metal; you'll only really get this if you've read an old Cracked article) are all bands I just randomly invented; Billy Bob Billy is a joke from a much older story after I wondered if "progressive country" was a thing or not; and Tötfleisch (industrial-prog metal), the Intercourse Handguns (punk), GodFucK (noise metal), Bloodpuke (death metal), Master Bätz (prog rock-metal-electronic-whatever) and Kräkas (black metal) are all sort of real bands a friend and I have/had.
> 
> I picked each genre for each troll based on what would make me laugh most. Equius totally listens to hair metal; Eridan listens to the Handguns' shitty sellout album; Nepeta listens to all these disturbing metal bands; Karkat listens to soft acoustic rock to try to calm him down; Vriska listens to nu metal because she seems like that sort of person; Tavros got Billy Bob Billy because Billy Bob Billy is funny; we've established Sollux is a prog bass master; Gamzee is just Gamzee.
> 
> And about that math thing: I'm sorry. Just...so sorry.
> 
> And because this still isn't long enough, [this is the inspiration behind Karkat's driving face.](http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=&section=&global=1&q=car+cat#/d30ctai)


	5. In Which Bandcram Performs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that school is out for the summer I have no excuse to be a lazy bum and let this shit go months without updating.  
> Probably won't stop me.
> 
> And oh wait what's this, it ended? Well, wow, this is exciting. Not sure what to do from here, other than keep writing. I don't really have any one thing in particular set up next, but I think I have an idea.

Karkat returned to find the various equipment stacked haphazardly in the middle of the lane and one less troll in the immediate area. "I have two questions for you idiots: one, why did you put our shit in the middle of goddamn everything, and two: where the hell did Spongebrain Musclehead go?"

Sollux shrugged. "For number one, that wathn't me. For two, he ran off after he dumped the boxeth everywhere. Thaid thomething about 'dealing with these lowbloodth to enthure the highblooded victory'." He looked disinterestedly at a fingernail. "Tho he'th probably trying to thabotage the otherth."

Karkat rubbed his temples. "Fuck. Where's Gamzee?"

Gamzee peeked around a stack of boxes. "What the motherf-"

"Gamzee, you moron, move these fucking things out of the way. There are people trying to get though."

One small car was on the other side of the towers. The octogenarian at the wheel had fallen asleep.

"You motherfucking got it."

"Nepeta, get over here."

Nepeta looked up from where she was lying in the sun. "Wuh? Oh, hi Karkitty!"

Karkat winced. "Never call me that again. Now go find Equius before someone dies."

Nepeta scampered to her feet and shot off in a random direction. "Okay, Karkitty! _Equiuuuus! Eeeequiuuus!_ "

"Alright, and-" Karkat glared at the space where two trolls used to be. "Where the fuck are Vriska and Tavros?"

Sollux looked from where he was helping Gamzee with a box. "They're mithing?"

" _Fuck._ Fuck fuck fuuuuck. Fucking fuck of a fucked fucker. Do you _know_ what could go wrong?"

"I don't really want to."

Karkat frowned. "You're not helping."

"I think," Gamzee sputtered between breaths, "that those two motherfuckers said something about motherfucking spinach."

Sollux blinked. "Eww, thhit."

Karkat sighed. "Leave them. If they don't came back in half an hour, I'll do something about it."

"Thpeaking of doing thomething..."

"Cram it, I'll help."

\----

**_Elsewhilewhere..._ **

Equius stood in front of the stage as the next band set up. There were three of the humans, and they were sort of freaked out by Equius just...

_...staring._

Equius ran a few numbers through his head. Unfortunately, they had arrived too late and he did not know the quality of have the bands at this event. Those were unknown variables. It was likely that most of the bands were terrible, as the last two had been, but the law of averages started that, somewhere, there had been, at the very least, a few bands that could potentially upend the rightful place of the highblood-having Bandcram. These pitiful redblood monkeys didn't even deserve the honor of being anywhere near Bandcram. The very thought of it made Equius...

_...sweat._

"Hi, Equius!" Nepeta bounded on all fours through the minor crowd and next to him. She stood. "Whatcha doing?"

Equius rearranged his train of thought's boxcars, then mentally kicked himself for the mixed metaphor. "Watching," was all he said.

"Uh _huuuuuh_ ," Nepeta rocked back and forth on her feet. "Karkat wants you to come back to the bus."

Equius made a _hrrk_ noise. The band onstage was starting to play _Electric Eye_ and Equius decided they were a threat. "I'll be right back."

Nepeta was largely oblivious. "Don't be long!"

Equius quietly slipped backstage and glared at their electronic setup. This one was even worse than the last he had sabotaged; cords crossed and tangled with no real intent except "try to make life hell for anyone tasked with moving them." Equius decided this was far from worth it and instead initiated Plan T. He reached into his pocket and removed his other cell phone, his homemade **P** ersonal **H** ydraulic **Y** universal e **L** ectronic **L** communication and **I** nformation **S** ystem, which Equius called PHYLLIS for short. It was essentially a smartphone that used obscene amounts of power. (It is worth noting that Equius is very bad at acronyms.)

Equius folded out the built-in wall plug and inserted it into a free outlet on a power strip. The electricity went out as Equius sent out a power surge. The band's amps blew out. The crowd muttered. The announcer stood on stage and announced, for the third time today, they'd figure out what went wrong in back.

Equius pocketed PHYLLIS and slipped out, rejoining Nepeta in the disappointed crowd. "I apologize, I had to take care of something."

Nepeta glared. "Karkat will be mad."

Equius grimaced. "You're probably right."

The next band worked their way up. The trio was obviously incompetent. Equius turned. "I believe my work here is done."

\----

Karkat glanced up from _The National Infringer_ (" **TÖTFLEISCH BACK TOGETHER AGAIN?** " " **KE$HA PREGNANT?!!** " " **ST LOUIS BIGFOOT ACTUALLY OBESE HOBO** "), relieved to find Nepeta and Equius striding over and allowed himself to add two to his mental tally. "About goddamn time," Karkat said as he put the magazine down and scowled. "Did you see Vriska and Tavros?"

Nepeta blinked. "They're still missing?" Equius just made an uninterpretable shoulder gesture.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Eridan! Eridan, get over here!"

Eridan did not appear to be nearby.

" _Shiiiit._ "

\----

Eridan stalked into the Walmart on a mission. It was not his usual mission, which was to steal objects from the hunting department and not get caught. This was a mission of romantic duty, the most important sort of duty he could imagine:

He was Tavros' and Vriska's auspistice.

Well, sort of. He arrived at this conclusion because he was tired of Tavros and Vriska breaking things in their weirdrom rage and decided to try to do something about it. This made him their auspistice in his own little world, and neither of the other two involved parties knew this. He had only managed to make them get along once, and that was by sheer accident and at another troll's expense. Still, like most of his romantic endeavors, Eridan kept trudging on, much as he was trudging on through what appeared to be an endless hall of cheesy greeting cards.

"Hey lady," Eridan spied a doughy old woman browsing the selection for grandchildren's birthdays. "Hawe y'seen deese guys?" He held out his cell phone, which was displaying a picture of Vriska throttling Tavros with a telephone cord. Karkat stood in the background, face twisted in an expression of pure rage. "Not d'short angry guy, dose two beatin' each odder up." 

The old woman became highly unnerved of this weirdly dressed kid, his hwawy soundin' accent, and his wiolent I mean violent friends. She managed to sputter a negative, grabbed whatever card she could, and shuffled away.

"Aw, man." Eridan looked down the other way, back where he came. A tall, stringy guy was talking to an EO. He looked the other way. The old woman, having decided she was safe, was browsing further down. Eridan sighed. "Bein' an auspistice is fuckin' 'ard."

\----

"Cod dammit, Wris, about fuckin' time." Eridan stumbled out of a row of five hundred thread count bedsheets to find Vriska, peering out from behind a display of five hundred thread count pillowcases. "I'we been lookin' all ower fer you."

Vriska turned and shot Eridan a glare. "Shut up, you'll give my position away."

"Position?" Eridan settled behind the display. "Hwhat d'fuck is goin' on?"

"They won't allow Tavros and I in Frozen Food anymore, so I sent him in on a stealth mission to get what we need." She squinted in the direction of the freezers. "I'm watching."

"Hwatchin' fer hwhat?"

Tavros sped out of the isle, multiple bags of spinach on his lap. He skidded to a stop by Vriska. "Hey, I, uh, think we should, uh, go, because these, um, bags will probably give me frostbite, even though I can't feel it, and..." He looked back. "I think someone saw me."

"What, seriously? You fucking moron."

"I'm sorry."

"Eridan, hide us!" Vriska shoved Eridan in front of the pillowcase display and pulled Tavros into the isle. "Or I'll gut you like the disgusting fish you are!"

"Easy now, Wris, no need t'get so black on me." Vriska only snorted in response as two WALMART EOs stomped out of the frozen food isle, looked around a bit, shrugged, and went back in. Vriska sighed in relief and exited. "And hwhat d'ell are you goin' t'do hwit' all dat?"

Vriska indulged Eridan.

Eridan's eyes dilated. "Fuck! 'oly shit! M'mind! Mind bleach! I fuckin' need mind bleach!" He fell into the pillowcase display in a heavenly soft _fluf_ that only five hundred threads could provide. "'ow d' _fuck_..."

"Hey, uh, Vriska, if I could, um, feel my legs at all, I, uh, would probably be saying I couldn't, um, feel my legs. So..." Tavros picked at a bag of spinach. "Can you move these?"

Vriska turned. "Oh, quit being such a big baby. Come on!" She led Tavros off, leaving behind a theatrically weeping Eridan.

\----

Karkat was seething. Ask anyone other than him, and they'd say that seething was probably one of his favorite hobbies, right up there with screaming, swearing, and making faces. Truth was, Karkat did not enjoy any of these activities, nor what they did to his blood pressure, but found himself seething often nonetheless, such as right now.

Two EOs walked up to the bus. One was carrying Vriska and a misty-eyed Eridan by the backs of their shirts, the other pushed Tavros. The first EO held up the two unprotesting trolls. "Are these yours?"

"Unfortunately." Karkat ran a hand down his face. "Just drop them there, and please, whatever you do, _don't_ tell me what they did."

The EO shrugged and dropped Eridan and Vriska on the ground. The second shoved Tavros toward Karkat, and the officers left without another word.

"I'm not even going to begin to verbally abuse the romantically incompetent and their clueless auspistice for their completely cartilage-headed foray into a Walmart that actively hates us, because we've got more important shit to worry about than your failures in any sort of conceivable quadrant. It just so happens we need to leave and get ready to set up _now_. " Karkat turned. "Equius!"

Equius poked his head out of a bus window. "What?"

"Start moving shit now."

Equius began a retort, remembered his sworn duty as the noble roadie, and began to wonder if he was being used. Nonetheless, he trudged down the stairs and STRONG LIFTED a full stack of boxes.

"And up next, we have..." an announcer squinted at his paper. "I can't read this," he said away from the mic.

"Bandcram!" Karkat shouted.

"Bandcram," the man said, "Featuring, uh, oh, Karkit, Vriske, Taroz, Games...Ed Ryan? And...Souls?" The man moved a little bit away from the mic again. "This guy's handwriting is _atrocious_."

"Alright, everyone, get a fucking move on. Now! Go, go, go!" Karkat stood on the stage, directing bandmates and tech crews. "Come on, we haven't got all d-" Something that sounded suspiciously like _H3H3H3_ interrupted him. He whirled. At the very front of the small crowd, Terezi, Feferi, Aradia, and Kanaya were spectating, holding signs reading **Y---EA)( BANDCRAM** , **1 <3 K4RKL3S**, **Bandcram Is Simply The Best** , and **bandcram is 0kay**. Noticing the group had his attention, Feferi began cheering and Terezi began cackling even louder.

"Hiiiii, Karkles!"

"What the- how did you get here?"

"We took Neighbor Phil's car!"

"What?"

"I drove!"

**FL4SHB4CK**

"Terezi, you're in the left lane again!"

"But I thought the left lane is the right lane!"

" _The right lane is the right lane!_ "

"You are not an okay driver."

"Fine, fine, god." Terezi cut sharply right, forcing a car off the road. "Driving is _hard_."

**3ND FL4SHB4CK**

"One of these days your antics are going to put me in jail."

Terezi grinned. "Like last time? Don't tell me you've forgotten about that."

"Last call for, uh, Bandcram," the announcer called.

"Alright, look, I've got to go. Just...try not to set anything on fire." With that, he left to yell at someone else. "Equius. You swear on the Mother Grub's gaping orifices everything is set up correctly?"

"Indeed. Everything sh-"

"Good, awesome, now get the fuck out of here." He shoved Equius off the side of the stage, down a flight of stairs.

"Fiddlesticks, I appear to be falling down all of these stairs!"

Nepeta walked down behind him. "I told you, Equius! I told you about stairs!"

Karkat ignored the shorehorned but obligatory Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff reference. Instead: "Tavros, start us off."

"Was it, uh, on-"

"F and C."

"Oh. Uh." Tavros frowned at the keyboard on his lap, hunted for a key, then began the piano intro. The drum beat came in, Gamzee astoundingly focused on something. And then-

Sollux raised his volume with a foot pedal and hit a low note and Eridan's amp, which had been affixed with a metal Aquarius symbol, violently blew. One of the halves of the symbol flew through the air and planted itself firmly in Feferi's shoulder. She stared dumbly at it, cried out in pain, and fainted. Eridan threw his guitar on the ground, causing it to make a horrid noise, and attempted to put out the amp fire with his cape, Sollux and Tavros hovering nearby. Vriska and Terezi were doubled over in laughter. Kanaya was attending to Feferi. Karkat was screaming at everyone. Nepeta watched in a grim sort of fascination. Equius was sweating badly. Aradia impassively stared, chewing a bite of soft pretzel. Gamzee, as usual, was entirely clueless.

"Oh, uh, this where I just motherfucking solo the motherfuck out of these motherfucking drums, right?"

"Fucking help us, you miserable sack of clown shit!"

"I'm going to say that's a motherfucking yes." And man, did he solo the motherfucking out of those motherfucking drums. In fact, he sick solo'd something hella uncannybrutal for the entire four minutes the other eleven trolls were running around like egglayers with their think pans removed, and, upon completion, he knocked over two cymbals, punched a hole in the nearest tom, passed out, and fell over, crashing most of the front end. A few men carried Gamzee on a stretcher into the same ambulance Feferi was in, where Kanaya was now standing, fretting. Terezi and Aradia had long since returned to Neighbor Phil's car.

Karkat turned on Equius. "What the storming fuck happened there?"

"W-well, I though-" Equius blinked sweat out of his eyes and tried to gain some semblance of composure. "I thought Nepeta could handle setting up everyone's amps, and-"

Karkat abandoned Equius. "Nepeta! By god's eyebrows, by a pack of lesser mountain hoofbeasts, by the fucking Sea of Mnh Audaerh-"

Nepeta turned and put on her best kittycat eyes. "I'm sorry, Karkat..."

The cherry red blood in Karkat's expanding and contracting vascular system struggled to reach the deepest pits of his expandercontracter. It made one final push and broke down the defenses. Karkat's anger fizzled. "Well, uh, don't...don't do it again."

"Excuse me, Mister Vantas?" A WALMART official tapped Karkat's shoulder. "Disaster notwithstanding, you really need to get off the stage so our last act can go." He squinted at his professional-looking clipboard that may or may not have had any actual writing on it. "You will find your results after the final performance."

"Yeah, yeah, we're going. Equius, just throw the drums off the side, who the hell even cares."

Thus, Bandcram moped about the stage (minus one Gamzee) and listened to some group of idiots churn out some horrid combination of raprock and metalcore. Only one person clapped, and he was their drunk friend. They were shooed offstage as a WALMART official took the stage. He held a sheet of paper, which he began reading. "And the winner of the first WALMART Battle of the bands is..." He paused for dramatic effect, "...Funeral Team, for their stirring melodic progressive folk doom death metal rendition of Queen's _Bohemian Rhapsody_."

A group of eight fantrolls took stage and accepted their $300 prize, which a troll with omega on his shirt immediately attempted to claim for himself, laughing with an eszett troll. This prompted a lecture from a blueblood with A on her shirt as a lowblood sporting a snake eating itself shook the rep's hand and took the check.

"Them again?" Sollux squinted at the fantrolls. "One of thethe dayth thhit will get out of hand and they'll get their own thtory."

"Alright, fuckers, show's over. Let's get the fuck out of here."

"Aww, Karkitty, can't we-"

Karkat shot Nepeta a look that was equal parts _don't try me_ and _I will punch a grub if you don't shut your chute_. Nepeta hung her head and joined the moping procession toward the bus. Karkat was just about to follow when a WALMART employee tapped Karkat on the back. "Uh, Mister Vantas?"

"Oh, not you again," Karkat muttered. "What?"

"Well, there were some bonus prizes based on popular vote, and there were enough write-ins for you guys for 'Most Terrifying' to warrant the category, so..." He held out a gift card. "...here's $75. It, uh, expires tomorrow, sorry about that."

Karkat claimed the card and told the man off. _Well,_ he thought, _this won't be worth a tub of grub waste in twenty-four hours, and we really need groceries._ He looked at the trolls assembled around him: Sollux, Nepeta, Equius, Tavros, Eridan, and Vriska.

_What could go wrong?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I'll make a consistent pattern for Eridan's accent, and I'll be a happy man. I think in this chapter, he's settled into "Scot with a V problem."
> 
> I am also very bad at fish puns. For that, I am deeply sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> 'Lederhosen' and 'millennia' are more words that Spellcheck does not think exist. I no longer find this remarkable.


End file.
